Displaced Persons
by Andraste
Summary: Scorpius has a proposal for Kerr Avon. Farscape crossover.


_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Avon or Scorpius, and make no money out of writing about them.

_Rating:_ PG

_Author's Note:_ Thanks to AstroGirl for the beta read.

**Displaced Persons**

By Andraste

It wasn't as though Kerr Avon hadn't met aliens before. There had been those like the Auronar, variant branches of humanity that had taken a different evolutionary path. There had been those like the shapeshifting Andromedans, or the spiders of Kairos, far stranger and more threatening. Yet in all his travels, he had seen none like this before. He had no trouble believing that Scorpius had arrived not merely from another galaxy, but from another universe altogether.

"What would I get in return for helping you?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, the only one allocated to his sparse private quarters. His guest was resting nonchalantly on the table instead.

The other man smiled at him, showing gums that were stained black. "Your freedom. I will transport you anywhere you wish to go."

"Ah. A reasonable exchange - but I am not certain that I want freedom."

He had no doubt that they could escape together. Avon could have escaped alone, had he wished to. He had simply failed to think of a reason to do so.

He had, once, desired freedom above all else. Ironic that he had finally escaped all of his metaphysical ties - the thousand tiny chains of emotion and obligation he had always itched to eliminate - just as he had been physically incarcerated. Now that he had experienced captivity for an extended period of time, it didn't seem unbearable. At least it was peaceful and the meals arrived at regular intervals.

The alien regarded him with an expression of curiosity. "In my experience, all truly intelligent beings desire freedom, and I can hardly doubt your intelligence. Sleer told me something of your exploits when she ... detained me. I am surprised that you aren't eager to regain your autonomy, so that you may continue to fight for that of your people."

Avon tensed. He had not known for certain until this moment that it was Servalan who had ordered his capture. Naturally he had suspected, but he had been here for more than three months now. She had never come to gloat over him in person, and Avon had begun to doubt that she still lived. Perhaps she was just busy.

"No doubt she told you that I was a rebel leader. I fear she has misrepresented my intentions - I assure you, I fought against the Federation only out of personal interest and necessity. I have the misfortune to be continually mistaken for a political."

"It was that other man who was the true revolutionary? Blake?" Scorpius asked.

Avon forced his face to remain blank, but his voice communicated more than he wanted it to. "If you value you life, don't ever speak that name in my presence again."

Scorpius inclined his head apologetically. "I have no interest in your past, and I am sorry to bring it up," he said. "I have told you my terms. Help me build a ship fit to travel wormholes, and I will give you your freedom."

It would not be any great challenge to construct a ship to the specifications Scorpius had given him, and only a moderate one to do so without being caught. Avon wondered why he was the target of the alien's attentions, when there were many people here who would have been keener to aid him. Perhaps it was simply because they were surrounded by unworldly academics; Avon must be one of the few people here who had ever handled a weapon or flown a space ship, let alone maintained one for years.

The Federation prison on Strato was home to a number of scientists that the government considered too valuable to kill and too dangerous to set free. Avon preferred to keep to himself - but perhaps that was what had caught Scorpius' eye. When the alien had been delivered a week before, Avon was the only prisoner who had not approached and questioned him. The denizens of Strato were not short on intellectual curiosity, and it must have been irritating for Scorpius to explain himself to his fellow inmates repeatedly.

Avon himself had not become interested until Scorpius had described wormholes to him.

"Tell me how this is meant to work again. It seems contrary to every principle of physics."

"I am not surprised that you think so," Scorpius said. "The humans in this universe have made many technological advances over those I am familiar with, but wormhole travel seems altogether unknown here."

Avon concealed his surprise at that piece of information, and pushed on. "Aren't you concerned that this means you won't be able to create a gateway? It may be that the physics of this universe will not accommodate wormholes at all."

Scorpius shook his head. "No. I have made it work in a dozen universes before this. It will work again. But unless my ship conforms to this design, I risk being liquefied during the journey - a fate I would much prefer to avoid."

"Why travel so far? For that matter, why leave your own universe in the first place?"

Scorpius shrugged. "My work there was completed, but those I had assisted were ... ungrateful. They wanted to learn my secrets - use wormholes to bend time as well as space. Everywhere I have gone, I have found people with the same idea. Besides, there was nothing to keep me in the universe I was born into."

For the first time, Avon heard an emotion other than intellectual curiosity in the alien's voice. There was a story there, but he didn't want to hear it - it probably sounded too much like his own.

"So you refuse to share your information with anyone else?"

"Yes. I have come to understand the danger wormholes present to the fabric of space and time. Ironically," he said, although Avon was in no position to understand the irony, "this has doomed me to become a fugitive."

"What if I wanted the secret, in return for helping you?"

"Then I would rescind my offer and find a way to accomplish escape without your aid."

Avon nodded thoughtfully. "Take me with you," he said, mind made up.

It was true the _last_ time a prisoner with an escape plan had dropped into his life, everything had rapidly gone to hell. Yet now that he knew for certain it was Servalan holding him, he had to get out. He had been left alive for a reason, and it was probably not a reason he would like.

For the first time, Scorpius appeared surprised. "Are you certain?"

"I, too, have nothing to tie me to my native universe."

"The wider multiverse can be hostile."

Avon smiled. "I am accustomed to hostility. Besides, an intelligent man can adapt."

"Well, if that is what you wish to do, we may be agreed. It has been some time since I had a traveling companion, but I am not adverse to the company of educated people."

"In that case, I agree."

Avon was surprised to see Scorpius draw knife from a sheath attached to the leg of his strange suit. "There is a small ritual," he said, "that would seal our commitment. I taste your blood, and then you taste mine."

Avon raised an eyebrow - it was a bizarre and barbaric rite, and an odd request from a man who seemed civilized in spite of his bizarre appearance. But he would not be put of by squeamishness. When in Rome ...

"If you insist," he said, holding out a hand.

Scorpius took it almost reverently, and cut Avon's finger open neatly. Avon didn't resist as the alien drew it into his mouth, but started at the heat of his body. That, more than the unique texture of his tongue, reminded Avon that he was touching a creature entirely foreign to his experience.

Releasing him after a long moment, Scorpius turned to cut his own finger open, though his leather glove, and offered it to Avon. Without hesitation he placed his lips around it - the glove tasted odd and the white blood odder, but Avon endured it.

"Thank you, Kerr Avon," Scorpius said. "I am sure that our alliance will prove profitable on both sides."

"I certainly hope that I can assist you."

Oh, he would help the alien. He would travel with him and provide him with appropriately elevated conversation, and anything else he happened to want. It would not take him long to learn how the magic trick was done. Then the ability to travel through space and time - to alter the past - would be in his grasp.

"I do hope that we're going to be friends as well as allies," Scorpius said, with another of his faintly disturbing smiles.

"So do I," Avon replied, with complete sincerity.

And he would treat Scorpius as he treated all of his friends.

**The End**


End file.
